PotC: The Curse of the Black Pearl retold
by Blue Jay Sparrow
Summary: I have taken the script of PotC, and turned it into a story. Please leave comments, or I will stop writing. (waves pencil menacingly)
1. A Pirate's Life

PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN:

THE CURSE OF THE BLACK PEARL

The old pirate sat at the tide line, the waves lapping lazily at his feet. He seemed unconcerned that dawn was approaching, and bringing with it the sounds of the nearby town starting to wake up. He had nothing better to do than sit here on the beach and remember bygone days of adventure, friends, and enemies.

The pirate was revisiting one of his oldest friends. They had both been younger when they had met, by far. His friend remained in this town with his wife, and they had prospered and had a family. The pirate had had a harder life, and was ten years older than his friend, who was just starting to feel age.

Deciding to see how is old friend was doing, he had returned, bringing with him memories of the past days of adventure that they had had together.

Footsteps pattered quickly towards the pirate. He seemed not to notice, even though he knew whom the footsteps belonged to. It was none other than his old friend's son. He was twelve years old, and positively adored his father and his "uncle." The pirate was not his uncle, but didn't mind at all that the child call him by that title.

The young boy scraped to a halt, lost his balance, and fell in the sand next to the old pirate. The boy huffed for breath, and managed to gasp out, "Good morning, Uncle." "Mornin'," said the old pirate, nodding, but not looking at the boy.

The boy watched the pirate in silence for a minute, trying to make himself look just as serious and mysterious. Then, the boy opened his mouth to speak, but the pirate spoke for him. "I s'pose you've come to hear a story?"

"You told me you'd tell me one today," replied the young boy eagerly, looking adoringly up at the pirate. "So I did," said the pirate, nodding his head again and managing a grin, "I know you probably hear this all the time, but you remind me so much of your father."

The boy sighed and said, "But I want to be a pirate," and added innocently, "Like you." The pirate nodded and said, "Sure you do." "So are you going to tell me the story?" asked the boy. "Have you heard the story of the curse of the Black Pearl?" asked the pirate.

The boy snapped into focus, his eyes growing wide. "No, I never have heard the story. Did you make it up, Uncle?" asked the boy. The pirate scoffed and said, "Of course not. Every story I tell you truly happened unless I say otherwise."

"Are you going to tell me the story?" asked the boy. "Do you believe in curses?" asked the pirate. "No," replied the boy, thoughtfully. "You will when I'm through with you," said the old pirate. "There's no such things as curses," argued the boy. "Shut your trap, and don't argue with your elders. Just listen. Listen...and learn..."

CHAPTER ONE

A PIRATE'S LIFE

It was in the middle of the Caribbean one day. There was a gray, impenetrable wall of fog. The H.M.S. Dauntless, a formidable, frightening British dreadnought with twenty-five gun ports on each side and rail guns to boot, was sailing through it all, silently.

That is, silent except for the angelic voice of a young girl singing, slow tempo, almost under her breath:

_Yo, ho, yo, ho, a pirate's life for me_

_Yo, ho, yo, ho, it's a pirates life for me..._

The voice belonged to Elizabeth Swann, a twelve-year-old girl with strawberry blond hair. She was standing at the bow railing, gazing at the seas, still singing:

_Drink up me hearties, yo, ho..._

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She spun around. It was just old Mr. Joshamee Gibbs, a man who was born old, with skin like dark leather. He had startled her, but she knew he was all right.

"Quiet, missy! Cursed pirates sail these waters. You want to call 'em down on us?" growled Gibbs. Elizabeth stared wide-eyed at him. "Mr. Gibbs," a voice said behind the old man. Elizabeth looked around Gibbs.

It was Norrington who had spoken. Norrington was a dashing young man, Royal Navy to the core. He glared sternly at Gibbs. Beside Norrington was Governor Weatherby Swann, a man of obvious high station, brass buttons on his thick blue jacket. He was Elizabeth's father.

"That will do," finished Norrington. "She was singing about pirates. Bad luck to sing about pirates, with us mired in this unnatural fog...mark my words," defended Gibbs.

"Consider them marked. On your way," replied Norrington. "Aye, Captain," said Gibbs, moving off, and he mumbled under his breath, "Bad luck to have a woman on board, too. Even a mini'ture one." He returned to his deck-swabbing duties, and surreptitiously took a quick swig from a flask.

"I think it would be rather exciting to meet a pirate," said Elizabeth. "Think again, Miss Swann. Vile and dissolute creatures the lot of them. I intend to see to it that any man who sails under a pirate flag, or wears a pirate's brand gets what he deserves: a short drop and a sudden stop," Norrington said in his usual pompous manner.

Elizabeth, not knowing what this meant, looked over at Gibbs. Gibbs helpfully mimed: a man being hung.

"Captain Norrington... I appreciate your fervor, but I am concerned about the effect this subject will have on my daughter," said Swann.

"My apologies, Governor," said Norrington, moving off. "Actually, I find it all fascinating," said Elizabeth. "And that's what concerns me. Elizabeth, dear...we will be landing in Port Royal very soon, and beginning our new lives. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we comport ourselves as befits our class and station?" Swann said.

"Yes father," said Elizabeth. Chastised, she turned away to look over the bow rail. "I still think it would be exciting to meet a pirate," said Elizabeth to herself.

The fog still hemmed the ship, and very little of the sea was visible. Suddenly, a figure floated into view. A young boy was floating on his back in the otherwise empty water. There was nothing to show where he came from, or how he came to be there.

"Look! A boy! In the water!" shouted Elizabeth. Norrington and Swann spotted him. "Man overboard!" shouted Norrington. "Boy overboard!" shouted Elizabeth.

"Fetch a hook! Haul him out of there!" ordered Norrington. There was quick movement and activity on the deck. The sailors used a boathook to snag the boy as he passed. Norrington and Swann hauled him aboard, and laid him on the deck. Elizabeth sidled in for a closer look.

"He's still breathing," said Norrington. "Where did he come from?" asked Swann. Then, they heard Gibbs mumble, "Mary mother of God..."

Everyone turned from the boy to look at the ocean. The sea was no longer empty. Wreckage from a ship littered the water...along with the bodies of its crew. What was left of the ship's hull was burning, and a ragged British flag was hanging limply from the stern.

The Dauntless slipped silently through it all. It was quiet. "What happened here?" asked Swann, breaking through the silence. "An explosion in the powder magazine. Merchant vessels run heavily armed," replied Norrington promptly.

"Lot of good it did them...," said Gibbs, and after a look from Swann, commented, "Everyone's thinking it! I'm just saying it! Pirates!" "There is no proof of that. It could have been an accident. Captain, these men were protection. If there is even the slightest chance one of those poor devils is still alive, we cannot abandon them!" said Swann.

"Of course not, Governor," said Norrington, turning the crew said, "Come about and strike the sails! Unlash the boats! Gunnery crew...jackets off the cannons!" then, he turned to Swann and said, "Hope for the best...prepare for the worst," and lastly he turned to two sailors and said, "Move the boy aft. We'll need the deck clear."

The two sailors lifted the boy. Swann pulled Elizabeth away from the rail, away from the hideous scene in the water. "Elizabeth, I want you to accompany the boy. He's in your charge now. You'll watch over him?" said Swann.

Elizabeth nodded gravely. Swann hurried away to help unstow the longboat. The sailors laid the boy gently on the poop deck, behind the wheel, and then hurried off. Elizabeth kneeled down beside the boy.

The boy's good looks were not lost on her. She reached out, and gently brushed the blond hair from his eyes.

Suddenly, he grabbed her wrist, wide-awake. Elizabeth was startled, but their eyes locked. She took his hand in hers. "My name is Elizabeth Swann," said Elizabeth. "Will Turner," gasped the boy. "I'm watching over you, Will," said Elizabeth.

He clutched her hand, and then slipped back into unconsciousness. His movement had opened the collar of his shirt. Elizabeth saw that he was wearing a chain around his neck. She tugged it free, revealing a gold medallion.

The side facing her was blank. She turned it over. A skull gazed up at her. Vaguely Aztec in design, but to her eyes, it meant one thing only.

"You're a _pirate_," said Elizabeth. She glanced back at the crew, and saw Norrington, giving orders, moving towards her. She looked back at Will...and came to a quick decision. She took the medallion from around his neck, and hid it under her coat.

Norrington arrived. "Did he speak?" asked Norrington. "His name is Will Turner...that's all I found out," said Elizabeth. "Very good," said Norrington. He hurried off.

Elizabeth stole away to the stern of the ship. She examined her prize...the gold medallion. A wisp of wind caught a strand of her loose hair, and she looked up.

Out over the sea, moving through the fog, silent as a ghost, was a large sailing ship, a schooner. It had black sails. Elizabeth stared, too frightened to move, or cry out.

The ship was obscured by the fog as it passed...but not the mizzen-top...and there hung the frightening skull and crossbones of the Jolly Roger.

Elizabeth looked from the flag to the medallion...the skull on the flag was the same as the one on the medallion.

Fog surrounded and closed in on all of the black ship except for the black flag. As Elizabeth watched, the skull appeared to turn and grin at her. Elizabeth shut her eyes tight...

...And then snapped them open again, startled wide with fear.

Then she remembered that she was no longer twelve-years-old and standing on the stern of the Dauntless. She was twenty-years-old, and lying in bed in the dark.

She remained motionless. Had it been a nightmare, or a jumbled childhood memory?

Elizabeth slowly looked as far out of the corner of her eyes as possible without moving. Might there be someone in the room with her, looming over her?

She turned, ready for anything. She was alone.

Elizabeth sat up, turned up the flame on an oil lamp beside her canopied bed. She carried the lamp across the room to her dressing table, and sat down.

Elizabeth pulled one of the small drawers all the way out, and reached into a space beneath it. She removed the medallion.

She had kept it all this time. It had not lost its luster...or its sense of menace. She gazed at it as she absently returned the drawer to its place.

Suddenly, there was a booming knock on the door. Elizabeth jumped up, startled, and knocked over her chair. "Elizabeth? Is everything all right? Are you decent?" It was just her father. "Yes...yes," replied Elizabeth.

She put the medallion on, and threw on a dressing gown as Swann entered, carrying a large box. Estrella, a maid, followed after Swann. "Still abed at this hour? It's a beautiful day!" said Swann.

Estrella pulled back the heavy curtains. Elizabeth moved over to them, and looked out of the window at the bucolic town of Port Royal, built on a natural harbor. On a bluff at the mouth of the harbor stood Fort Charles, its stone parapets lined with cannons.

"I have a gift for you," said Swann. He opened the box, displaying for Elizabeth a gorgeous velvet dress. She let out an admiring gasp.

"It's...beautiful. May I inquire as to the occasion?" said Elizabeth. "Is an occasion necessary for a father to dote upon his daughter with gifts?" asked Swann. Elizabeth happily took the dress, and disappeared behind the screened-off dressing area. Estrella followed, carrying the box.

"Although...did think you could wear it to the ceremony today," said Swann. "Ceremony?" asked Elizabeth from behind the screen. "Captain Norrington's promotion ceremony," said Swann.

Elizabeth peeked around the screen. "I knew it," she said. "Or, rather, Commodore Norrington...a fine gentleman, don't you think?" said Swann. Elizabeth disappeared again behind the screen. "He fancies you, you know," said Swann.

Behind the screen, Elizabeth gasped. "Elizabeth? How's it coming?" said Swann. Elizabeth was holding her hair and the medallion out of the way as Estrella cinched her into a corset over her slip. Estrella had her foot in Elizabeth's back as she pulled the laces tight.

"Difficult...to say," gasped Elizabeth. "I'm told that dress is the very latest fashion in London," said Swann. Holding her breath, Elizabeth replied, "Women in London must have learned to not breathe." Estrella was finished. Elisabeth took a breath...and winced.

A butler appeared in the doorway of the room. "Governor? A caller is here for you," said the butler.

The caller, dressed in rough clothing, stood in the foyer, looking very out of place, and knowing it. He held a long presentation case. He polished the toes of his boots on the back of his calves, but it didn't help.

"Ah, Mr. Turner! It's good to see you again!" said Swann. The caller turned. It was none other than Will Turner, the boy who they had found floating in the sea eight years ago. He was now handsome, with a watchful demeanor that gave him weight beyond his years.

"Good day, sir," said Will, holding out the case, "I have your order." Swann hurried to him, and opened the case. Inside was a beautiful dress sword and scabbard. Swann took it out reverently. "The blade is folded steel. That's gold filigree laid into the handle. If I may..."

Will took the sword from Swann, and balanced it on one finger at the point where the blade met the guard. "Perfectly balanced. The tang is nearly the full width of the blade," said Will. "Impressive...very impressive. Commodore Norrington will be pleased, I'm sure. Do pass my compliments on to your master," said Swann.

Will's face fell. Clearly, the work was his, and he was proud of it. With practiced ease, he flipped the sword around, caught it by the hilt, and returned it to the case. Bowing slightly, Will said, "I shall. A craftsman is always pleased to hear his work is appreciated."

Then, Will stopped speaking abruptly, staring past Swann. Elizabeth was standing on the stairs. "Elizabeth! You look stunning!" said Swann. Will tried to speak, but couldn't. He gave up, smiling to himself, and simply nodded emphatically.

"Will! It's so good to see you!" said Elizabeth. Her hand automatically went to the chain a round her throat. The medallion was hidden in the bodice of her dress. "I dreamt about you last night," said Elizabeth. "Really?" Will reacted with surprise.

"Elizabeth, this is hardly appropriate," said Swann. Ignoring her father, Elizabeth continued, "About the day we met. Do you remember?" "I could never forget it, Miss Swann," said Will. "Will, how many times must I ask you to call me 'Elizabeth?'" said Elizabeth. "At least once more, Miss Swann. As always," said Will.

Elizabeth was disappointed and a little hurt by his response. "Well said! There's a boy who understands propriety. Now, we must be going," said Swann. Swann took the case from Will, and opened the door for Elizabeth.

Elizabeth straightened her back, gathered her skirts, and strode past Will. "Good day, Mr. Turner," said Elizabeth. Swann followed Elizabeth out the door. "Good day," said Will.

Will watched as Elizabeth was helped aboard the carriage by the driver. Then, to himself, he mumbled, "Elizabeth." In the carriage, Swann glowered at his daughter. "Dear, I do hope you demonstrate a bit more decorum in front of Commodore Norrington. After all, it is only through his efforts that Port Royal has become at all civilized," said Swann.


	2. Pirates Ye Be Warned

Thanks so much for your review, Le Suze. It helps me know that people are actually reading this fanfic. Thanks again. And was it really that good? Here is the next chapter after so long of waiting.

CHAPTER TWO

PIRATES YE BE WARNED

It was at that moment that the thing that would change the lives of the people of Port Royal happened. It was out at Port Royal's harbor that day.

The skeletal remains of four pirates, still clad in buccaneer rags, were hanging from gallows erected on a rocky promontory. There was a fifth, unoccupied gallows, bearing a sign that said: PIRATES – YE BE WARNED.

The top of a billowing sail passed regally in front of the skeletons. On the landward face of the sail, high in the rigging, was a man for whom the term "swashbuckling rogue" was coined: Captain Jack Sparrow.

Jack gazed keen-eyed at the display as it passed. He raised his tankard in salute. Suddenly, something below caught his attention. He jumped from the rigging, and landed on the deck of his small fishing dory with its single sail, plowing through the water…the Jolly Mon.

It leaks. Which is why he had the tankard: to bail. Jack stepped back to the tiller, and, using a single sheet to control the sail navigated the Jolly Mon around the promontory, the whole of Port Royal laid out before him.

The huge British dreadnought, H.M.S. Dauntless, dominated the bay. But Jack's attention was on a different ship: the H.M.S. Interceptor, a small sleek vessel with rail guns and a mortar in the middle of the main deck. It was tied up at the Navy landing, at the base of the cliffs below Fort Charles.

Smoothly, and with no wasted movement, Jack hauled down the sail, stowed it, and guided the dory alongside a dock. The harbormaster, a long ledger tucked under his arm, was there to catch a line and help Jack tie up. "If you're out rolling scuppers in this tub, you're either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid," said the harbormaster.

"It's remarkable how often those two traits coincide," replied Jack. He started up the dock, strapping on his sword belt as he went. The harbormaster cut him off.

"It's a shilling for the dock space, and you're going to have to give me your name," said the harbormaster. "What do you say to three shillings, and we forget the name?" asked Jack. He tossed three shillings onto the ledger the harbormaster was holding. The harbormaster considered this, and then shut the ledger on the coins, stepping aside. "Welcome to Port Royal, Mr. Smith," said the harbormaster.

Jack gave him a half-salute as he went passed. He looked across the water toward the Interceptor and smiled. Above the Interceptor, among the parapets of Fort Charles, a ceremony was underway.

With choreographed precision, Swann removed the sword and scabbard from the presentation case, held by a uniformed Navy man. He slid the sword into the scabbard, and held it out vertically to Norrington, who was in full dress uniform.

Norrington grasped the scabbard above Swann's hand, and Swann let it go. Norrington drew the sword, flourished it, and snapped the blade up in front of his face. Swann stepped forward, pinned a medal to Norrington's jacket, and stepped back.

Norrington nodded, turned smartly and nodded to his fellow officers, and then turned again and nodded to the audience of dignitaries, merchants, plantation owners, and their families. Another flourish, and he returned the sword to its scabbard.

The silence was broken by loud applause. The Navy men closed in for backslapping.

In the audience, Elizabeth wasn't doing so well, out beneath the hot sun. She applauded briefly and winced. She discreetly tried to adjust the corset through the material of her dress, and then resumed clapping, trying to hide her discomfort.

Two sailors on sentry duty, Murtogg and Mullroy, were taking advantage of what little shade there was on the dock. But when Jack sauntered up, they became immediately on the alert.

"This dock is off-limits to civilians," said Murtogg. "Sorry, I didn't know," replied Jack. Music drifted from Fort Charles. Jack looked up, shielding his eyes. "Some sort of to-do up at the fort, eh? You two weren't invited?" asked Jack.

"No…someone has to make sure this dock stays off-limits to civilians," said Murtogg. "This must be some important boat," said Jack. "Ship," corrected Mullroy. "Ship," said Jack, nodding. "Captain Norrington's made it his flagship. He'll use it to hunt down the last dregs of piracy on the Spanish Main," said Murtogg.

"Commodore," corrected Mullroy.

"Right. Commodore Norrington," said Murtogg.

"That's a fine goal, I'm sure… But it seems to me that a ship like that makes this one here just a wee superfluous," said Jack, pointing to the Dauntless. "Oh, the Dauntless is the power in these waters, true enough…but there's no ship that can match the Interceptor for speed," said Murtogg.

"That so? I've heard of one, supposed to be fast, nigh uncatchable…the Black Pearl?" said Jack mysteriously. Mullroy scoffed at the name of the ship.

"There's no _real_ ship as can match the Interceptor," said Mullroy. "The Black Pearl is a real ship," said Murtogg, suddenly.

"No, it's not."

"Yes it is. I've seen it."

"You've seen it?"

"Yes."

"You've seen the Black Pearl?"

"Yes."

"You haven't seen it."

"Yes, I have."

"You've seen a ship with black sails that's crewed by the damned and captained by a man so evil that hell itself spat him back out?"

"…No."

"No."

"But I've seen a ship with black sails."

"Oh, and no ship that's not crewed by the damned and captained by a man so evil hell itself spat him back out could possibly have black sails and therefore couldn't possibly be any ship other than the Black Pearl. Is that what you're saying?"

"…No."

Mullroy turned to Jack and said, "Like I said, there's no real ship as can match…Hey!" Jack wasn't there! Murtogg and Mullroy looked around, and spotted him.

Jack was standing at the wheel of the Interceptor, casually examining the mechanism. "You!" shouted Mullroy. Jack looked over in exaggeratedly innocent surprise at them. The sailors hurried toward the gangplank.

"Get away from there! You don't have permission to be aboard there!" shouted Mullroy. Jack spread his hands in apology. "I'm sorry. It's just such a pretty boat. Ship," said Jack. The sailors studied him suspiciously.

"What's your name?" asked Murtogg. "Smith." "What's your business in Port Royal, 'Mr. Smith'?" asked Mullroy. "And no lies!" added Murtogg.

"None? Very well. You've rumbled me. I confess: I intend to commandeer one of these ships, pick up a crew in Tortuga, and go out on the account, do a little honest pirating," said Jack.

"I said, no lies," said Murtogg.

"I think he's telling the truth," said Mullroy.

"He's not telling the truth."

"He may be."

"If he were telling the truth he wouldn't have told us."

"Unless, of course, he knew you wouldn't believe the truth if he told it to you," said Jack. Murtogg and Mullroy stood there and considered that point.

Elizabeth, pale and perspiring, fanned herself weakly, oblivious to the music and chatter. Norrington approached her and asked, "May I have a moment?" He extended his arm to her. She took it.

Norrington walked Elizabeth away from the party, toward the parapet. There was rather too long of a silence as Norrington worked up his courage. "You looked lovely. Elizabeth," said Norrington in a burst.

Elizabeth frowned, unable to focus. Norrington, who mistook her expression for disapproval, bit his lip. "I apologize if I seem forward…but I must speak my mind," said Norrington. He stopped to work up his confidence.

"This promotion confirms that I have accomplished the goals I set for myself in my career. But it also casts into sharp relief that which I have not achieved. The thing all men most require: a marriage to a fine woman. You have become a fine woman, Elizabeth."

"I can't breathe," groaned Elizabeth. Norrington smiled. "I'm a bit nervous, myself…" Elizabeth suddenly lost her balance, and stumbled away from Norrington. She reached a hand out to the parapet to steady herself, but it slid off. Then, as quickly as she had been standing next to Norrington, Elizabeth vanished over the wall. "Elizabeth!" exclaimed Norrington, traumatized at what he had just witnessed.

Jack reacted, pushing Murtogg aside to see. Elizabeth plummeted from the top of the cliff. She seemed to fall in slow motion.

Elizabeth hit the water, narrowly missing the sharp rocks. A wave broke, and she was washed out away from the cliff, struggling feebly.

Back at the fort, Norrington looked down over the side of the wall. "ELIZABETH!" he shouted. Norrington leapt to the top of the parapet, prepared to dive, when Lieutenant Gillette caught his arm. "The rocks, sir! It's a miracle she missed them!" he said.

Norrington shook off Gillette, and looked down. Gillette was right. Norrington jumped to solid ground, and ran to find an alternate way down.

Jack, Murtogg, and Mullroy were still staring in shock from the sight. "Aren't you going to save her?" asked Jack. "I can't swim," said Mullroy. Murtogg shook his head…neither could he.

Rolling his eyes, Jack mumbled, "Sailors." Above where Elizabeth was struggling in the water, several other men were picking their way down the cliffs. They were too far away to get to her in time.

Jack scowled at nothing in particular. He had no choice, and it made him mad. "Fine," he growled. Jack pulled his pistol from his sword belt and chunked it to Murtogg. He then threw his sword belt to Mullroy. "Don't loose these," he growled. Jack dove into the water, and swam towards Elizabeth.

Elizabeth struggled to keep above water, gasping for air. Then, a swell rolled over her, and she submerged. Elizabeth drifted down to the bottom, unconscious. The current turned her, and the medallion slipped loosely from her bodice.

The medallion turned slowly, until the skull was facing the surface. A shaft of filtered sunlight sparkled off of it, and it glinted menacingly.

At Fort Charles, the British flag flew, blown from an offshore breeze. Suddenly, the wind died, and the flag went limp.

On the docks, wood and metal fittings on lines were banging against their masts. The wind died down, and there was silence.

On the edge of town, a woman was feeding her clucking chickens. She frowned when they all went suddenly quiet.

In the village, a weather vane moved slightly in the wind. The wind stopped and all was still. And then, the weather van turned, and held steady. The wind had picked up again, but was now blowing from the sea towards the land.

On the beach, an old salty man was pulling on a rope line. He paused, then turned and gazed into the sky, frowning. The mangy hound at his side suddenly started barking meanly.

On the docks, the lines were now banging against the other sides of the masts, the wind far stronger now.

At Fort Charles, the British flag was flying in the opposite direction, snapping in the new onshore breeze.

Norrington rushed down the cliff, intent on the climb. Beyond him, past the rocky pint, far out to sea, fog was gathering.

The medallion hung below Elizabeth's unmoving form. Then, Jack was there. He wrapped his arm around Elizabeth and made for the surface.

OOC: As usual, read and review, PLEEEEZEEEEZZZ!!! (Puppy dog eyes). Hm? What about now? Now?


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